Day 192: Goodbye Miss Laurita Bufi

We get a late start on our last day in Vegas.  It is cloudy.  I didn’t know Vegas had clouds.  We take our time packing up and say goodbye to our friends Tina, Allie and Edilsa before Meg, Laura, Alison and I head to Rehab at the Hard Rock Hotel.

Breakfast at the Wynn

When we arrive at the Hard Rock, I help Laura check her bags at the front desk since she will be heading to the airport from here.  She protests and I explain that she can’t bring them to the pool.  She is anxious.  We walk toward the entrance to the pool and she stops for cigarettes.  “No,” I tell her.  She is trying to quit and I have been very stern with her.  I don’t accept her excuses.  “We will not wait for you to buy that crap,” I tell her and continue to walk.  She has grown accustomed to my tough love and this is not the first time I’ve spoken to her like this, but this time she has had enough. 

“It’s Vegas, I am having my cigarette!” She exclaims. 

I continue to walk with the girls and she eventually runs and catches up with us at the entrance where we are greeted by a line of security men and women in bright orange shirts.  They dig through our bags.  Laura has small plastic mirror that they will not allow her to bring to the pool.  “No glass,” the large security woman tells us.

“Throw it away and let’s go,” I tell Laura. 

“No,” she protests.  “I need my mirror.”

“You can buy a new one for $5 at the airport. We have two hours here together before you leave and then I won’t see you for who knows how long,” I plea.

She begins to cry.  Of course, this isn’t about the mirror. 

Every day, for the past fifty-five days, with the exception of one weekend in Boston, Laura has been by my side.  She wasn’t a tourist here.  She built a life and made friends in New York. 

Natalie, Laura, me, Jay, Chris and Kate at the Hotel Giraffe rooftopAt shake shack

She loved her life in New York.  Every morning we would sit outside on my patio, listen to music and eat breakfast.  I’d read the paper, she would post and upload pictures on her Facebook machine and Lyla would sit at our feet.

Bryant Park

At the farmer’s market in Union Square

We went to Nashville, Bonnaroo, Washington DC, my home in Princeton, Day and Night Brunch, Governors Ball, my grandparent’s home on Long Island, a Yankees game, the Hamptons, Central Park, dozens of restaurants, Brooklyn, San Francisco, Napa, Big Sur, Los Angeles and finally Vegas. 

Day and Night brunch at MPD

At our camp in Bonnaroo

Laura teaches us how to Salsa on Billy’s roofJuly 4th weekend in the HamptonsStephen’s Talkhouse in AmagansettAt the Jane hotel for Laura’s last night in New York. “My babies,” she calls us.

Santa Monica, CA

This is her last day by my side on this trip.  I hug her.  I wipe her tears, wrap my hands around her face and I look her in the eyes.  “This isn’t the end my Bufita.” 

Lyla’s treat that I gave Laura in Buenos Aires to explain to her that she is my treat. She is my cookie. She saved it.